One More Night?
by Chariline
Summary: [1p2pamericest] They agreed to stop once Tommy left for college. But one night's gonna change all of that. [rated M for my there's-enough-sex-for-this-rating scene]


Alfred woke to the smell of alcohol-laden breath breezing across his nose. "Wha's goin' on?" he slurred sleepily, his blue eyes opening and trying to focus without the aid of his glasses. Alfred reached out to grasp about on his nightstand for his glasses, but a too-warm hand closed over his wrist and pulled the hand back, holding him to the bed.

"Ya don't recognize your big bro's favorite drink?" a soft, slightly scratchy voice asked, and Alfred could actually hear the beginnings of a smirk in it.

"Oh, 's you, Tommy," Alfred replied, his words becoming clearer as he started to wake up. "Nice one, you got me. What're you doing here?" Tommy, older than Alfred by two and a half years, was supposed to be rooming at the community college in the nearby city and hadn't been around home since school had started a few weeks ago.

Above him, Alfred could see the fuzzy outline of Tommy shrug, and the unspecific answer frustrated Alfred, though he had been expecting it. Tommy was probably drunk, anyway, which meant he'd be doubly unhelpful with his answers. Alfred managed a slight chuckle, though, and said, "Well come on, if you're gonna be here we should get you to the guest room so Mom and Dad don't flip." Alfred tried to get up to help Tommy there, assuming he was too intoxicated to find the room by himself in the dark, but found that his older brother was still holding him to the bed. "Come on, Tommy, let me uuuuup," Alfred whined, wiggling slightly as he pushed himself to a sitting position with his free hand and tugged at Tommy's hand holding him down.

Tommy's eyes narrowed slightly as a smirk began to creep onto his features. "Nuh uh, not happenin'," he said, pulling Alfred's other hand off of his and pinning that down as well, his legs moving to tangle with his younger brother's to keep them still as he leant his head in forward, keeping his body arched as far away from Alfred's as he could. It had the desired effect: Alfred stopped wiggling around and swearing under his breath at him, those big blue eyes turned towards him now, unsure and sure at the same time, because Tommy knew that Alfred knew what was coming next.

"Um, Tommy?" Alfred whisper-asked, able to focus clearly now on his brother, on the shade of those deep brown eyes that seemed to reflect red by the ochre glow of the streetlamp's light coming in through the window behind his bed.

"At your service, brother o' mine," Tommy replied, the stretch of his mouth widening.

Alfred swallowed once, not from nerves, but from something else stirring. "You're, um… You're wasted, aren't you? You're not gonna remember that you stopped by in the morning…"

That's when Tommy smiled much the same way that a cat would when it'd just cornered a mouse. He had Alfred right where he needed him. "I'm not hearin' a no, porkchops," Tommy murmured, his lips brushing Alfred's with their proximity.

Not even daring to breathe, Alfred had barely nodded his permission before Tommy's lips crashed down roughly on his like a wave meeting the dry sands of a beach. Alfred's whole body surged upwards and into the kiss, both of his wrists still restrained by Tommy, who hadn't lowered his hips to meet Alfred's yet.

Their lips moved bruisingly against one another's, Alfred getting nips in here and there at Tommy's lips, while the other's tongue piercing swiped across the surface of his own tongue roughly, continuing in this manner until Alfred, needing to breathe, pulled his head back and turned it to the side, his breaths shallow as he tried to regain a stable breathing pattern.

Tommy wasn't having any of this stopping business. He took the opportunity to lean down and graze his bitten lips and teeth along the peachy skin of Alfred's neck. "Looks like someone's gotta hit the gym more often," Tommy teased with a sly grin, "if you're outta breath so fast, cupcakes."

Alfred's mind was too preoccupied to catch the jab. "Tommy, you can't-" Tommy nipped, none too gently, at the soft skin below Alfred's ear and the blond breathed in sharply through his nose, his train of thought derailed as Tommy's tongue drew itself over the spot, too quickly to be apologetic, especially when the metal of his tongue ring grazed over it, making Alfred shudder slightly and arch his body upwards. "No, Tommy-" Alfred managed to get out, but before he could even finish the thought Tommy had gotten up and off of him at the word "no", leaving Alfred breathless, confused, and feeling a little cold without that extra warmth. Alfred blinked and slowly sat up, facing Tommy, who was perched like an owl on the end of Alfred's bed. The blond reached out and grabbed his glasses, putting them on to see his brother better.

Tommy blinked once, slowly, his whole body tense. He looked thinner than when he'd left only a few weeks ago, even a little harder. There was a new tattoo on his left shoulder, some strange pattern that Alfred didn't recognize. "I don't screw around with that word in play," he said, his voice surprisingly clear for all the alcohol that Alfred could still smell around him.

Alfred nodded, absently rubbing at his wrists even though they weren't sore. "Yeah, I know. But you…" Alfred trailed off, his brain still cloaked in a bit of a fog. "You're totally drunk though, aren't you?" he asked with a frown. Alfred wasn't stupid; he knew that the last time Tommy had been around that they had called it quits, had called everything off. "You won't even remember this later, will you?"

Tommy's scowl, visible even in the semi-darkness, shut Alfred up for the time being. "You're the one who said I was wasted, an' I'm not," he answered, "so stop being so goddamn pissy about it, Al."

He never called Alfred by his actual name, not even by a nickname like that. Alfred blinked, taken aback by that two-letter word, trying to gauge his brother's sincerity. Alfred was still young, maybe a bit too young - he was sixteen and Tommy had just turned nineteen and even though this had been going on since Alfred's fourteenth birthday (he remembered groping hands and inexperienced open-mouthed kisses in his aunt's back closet and the smell of stale cigarettes most of all), Alfred knew how his brother could break and make promises at the drop of a hat.

Tommy could read the thoughts going across Alfred's face. He'd always been able to, and what he saw now he didn't like the looks of. He was already moving on, uncurling his limbs and putting his feet on the floor. He wasn't looking at Alfred when he said, "I'm gonna go and sleep at Matt's or somethin' and you can go back to sleep and I won't stop by again 'til break." Tommy moved to push himself up and off the bed when Alfred reached out, rapid-fire quick, and grasped Tommy's hand. The brunette tensed, then glanced sideways at Alfred, the color in his eyes gone a funny flat brown.

"Promise you'll stay this time?" was all Alfred asked, his blue eyes shining maybe a bit too brightly. "You said you were leaving for good when you left for college, but now you're back, smelling like you drank the bar or the keg or whatever, and you kiss me like that and what'm I supposed to think, huh?" Alfred went on, his voice going from soft to a bit hard, a bit touchy; it was clear from the way he spoke that he thought there was a rhyme and a reason to these things.

Tommy kept his voice as low as he could, though he knew that, "Maybe I missed your pork chop thighs and your meaty love handles, huh?" came out angrier than he had intended. He wasn't looking at Alfred anymore; he couldn't afford to.

Alfred wasn't having any of that. He let go of Tommy's hand and gripped the older teen's shoulder tightly. "Are you staying or what?" he asked, his words clipped.

At that, Tommy looked up, an unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly, it brightened into a wide grin. "Aww, an' here I was thinking' you didn't love me too!" he exclaimed, leaning forward with all the spontaneity of the slightly tipsy and planting a big, wet kiss on Alfred's mouth that turned more than a little dirty as Tommy leant further and further into Alfred, forcing the blond back to lying down. There was no stopping now and both boys knew it; the way that Tommy's hips were rocking, unrestrained, against Alfred's, held too much tension for them to bear.

So with fumbling fingers (it had been too long), Alfred worked off Tommy's jeans and Tommy helped Alfred to shimmy out of his pajama pants ("Maybe we can fuck on the moon," Tommy suggested with a waggle of his brows, and Alfred hit his arm as response). And Tommy swallowed Alfred's cries when he pushed into the younger teen, waiting as patiently as he could for Alfred to nod and give him the go-ahead, to which he went straight for the kill, no gentleness necessary as Alfred's head fell back and his body writhed upwards, arms locked around Tommy's neck as his mouth opened in a silent 'oh' of pleasure when Tommy jerked him off while ramming his prostate the hardest he could manage. And it was messy when they collapsed together a few minutes later but neither brother cared as they fell asleep shortly after.

And when Alfred woke up in the morning and found himself trapped by Tommy's wiry arms and strong legs, he smiled and went back to sleep, secure in that moment.

* * *

**A/N: Merry Christmas! 8'D I secretly ship this, by the way. Except now it's not so secret. I haven't looked it over, because my everything hurts and I simply do not have the patience right now, so if you find any goofy-looking mistakes, that's my bad and I'll most likely go back and fix 'em later. Please drop me a review and let me know what you think, okay? Any input is greatly appreciated!**

**~Chari**


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